


sitting at the foot of a house of cards

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Loan Shark!Chilton, M/M, Mobster!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 15:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2073735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his dogs become injured and he becomes thousands of dollars in debt, Will turns to a less than legal source.</p><p>However, after what was supposed to be a simple payment, he finds himself surrounded by the vast criminal underworld. From there, he meets Frederick Chilton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Eight thousand dollars,” were the only words that registered throughout his mind. 

From this day, the problem began. After hours of sitting in a waiting room, the fluorescence of the low quality lights and bright white paint making his stomach churn, he was finally invited into a vet’s office.

They give him the news with a certain tone, one Will quickly developed a hatred for. Somewhere between the lines of patronizing and fake-sympathy, the male was able to give him the news, masked with the overuse of apologies and useless facts. He simply nodded, giving an obligatory message of thanks, before leaving. Recalling the events that had lead up to this point, it caused his head to hurt. Only a few hours ago he was walking his dogs, the largest concern in his life being the decision of what food should be his evening meal.

Yet here he was, being told that several of his dogs had suffered from a car crash that could prove fatal if it wasn’t settled soon. Surgery was apparently required, and for several dogs, it would prove pricey.

“Just give us a call if you’re ready to go ahead, Mister Graham,” the receptionist called out with a fake-cheery accent. The false enthusiasm found in workers began to grate on him.

As he entered his car, a run-down Sedan that was going to break down any day, he began to consider his options. The surgery was necessary for his dogs to survive. However, the surgery’s price would reach eight thousand dollars that would need to be paid fairly soon.

He mulled over the facts as he drove back to his home in Wolf-Trap. As he entered the house, expecting to be greeted by a large group of excited mutts, but instead encountering nothing but a cold breeze from the open door behind him, he knew what he had to do.

 

\--

 

Somehow, he’d arrived at a bleak coffee shop with ex-convict Matthew Brown.

He had changed significantly since his time in prison: no longer did his eyes take on the standard stony hardness. He looked like a completely new person, dressed in a dark blue plaid shirt and freshly ironed jeans. He looked normal.

In Will’s line of work, he had dealt with hundreds of criminals. Of them, Matthew was his favourite. Well versed in gang-culture, willing to share knowledge and advice, he was ridiculously helpful. Personally, he’d helped him bring down his first gang leader: a man named Garrett Jacob Hobbs. He had few associates, only his daughter and a few lackeys. Though it was only a small arrest, it was the one which had brought Will recognition around the bureau.

“What are you going to do?” Matthew asked after Will’s explanation of the current situation. His voice was unusually soft. Time out of prison has certainly changed him, Will thought to himself.

“What would you do?”

“What I would do…” he started slowly, a small smile filling his face. “is not something that you would want to get into. However, you’re desperate, so…”

Matthew glanced around the coffee shop, before leaning closer to him. His words were barely a whisper. “I know a guy.”

 

\--

 

That was how Will Graham ended up pacing around his kitchen, waiting for the phone call. 

The majority of his thoughts did their best to persuade him that this was a bad idea. He’d heard of loan sharks before, of course. Considering one was a different situation entirely. Worst-case scenarios ran through his head, filling him with dread and anxiety.

Just as he felt as though he was going to be sick, the phone rang. A generic bell tone, since he couldn't figure out how to change the damn noise. He picked it up almost instantly.

“It’s set up, Will. Scribble this address down.”

 

\--

 

In the late hours of the evening, near-empty glasses of whiskey littering the space around him, he considered what he was about to do. As he lowered his hand, still with the expectation that a small dog would brush past or sniff it, he thought to himself. It’ll be worth it.

It took him three more glasses of whiskey before he started believing in that sentence.


	2. Chapter 2

That was how Will Graham had ended up at a strange address, wondering if he was out of his mind.

He still doubted himself. This could end badly, he reminded himself. At some point in his life, Will had seen the film “The Godfather”. In his mind, he continued envisioning worst-case scenarios. Aside from the threat of being pulled into a mafia-style gang, other threats also loomed. What would one wear to a meeting like this? It sounded ridiculous, though Will gave it serious consideration. After around five minutes of pondering, he settled on a white dress shirt and black trousers.

The paper felt surprisingly heavy in his hand, as if it were leading him to his doom. There were several creases from where he had folded it and unfolded, and at one point, he crumpled it into a small ball, determined not to go along his path.

That thought process had been put to an abrupt stop, as he found himself driving to the unfamiliar area. As he continued driving, the amount of traffic decreased, and so did the quality of the area surrounding him. Offices and restaurants had transformed into run-down cafes and shops. Finally, with an overwhelming sense of dread, Will arrived at the destination. Just outside of a small, one storey house.

Reluctantly, he made his way towards the front door. A small, bronze knocker with rust coating the outsides greeted him. Will knocked once, before a low voice ordered for him to enter.

From the stereotypes and what Will had imagined in his head, the person before him wasn’t far off. Leaning against a counter in the kitchen that was opposite from the doorway stood a man. Early thirties, Will could tell, with a rounded face and a certain stony hardness to it that often was evident with criminal types. His eyes narrowed, looking over to Will with an air of suspicion. As he walked closer, he noted more things about his appearance. The leather jacket he wore over a white shirt was slightly too small for him, he used too much gel in his hair, his trousers were slightly large.

“You must be William,” his voice called out, surprisingly different in tone to what Will was expecting. It was a lot higher and less menacing, though from the way he spoke, it was clear he was trying to mask it.

Somehow, Will found himself standing beside the man. He shook the unfamiliar extend hand, giving a firm not. “That’s me.”

“Brown told me about you. So, it will be how much?”

It took a few seconds for it to register that he was discussing money. “Oh, uh...eight thousand.” He answered, his voice lowering. 

“Wow…” He whispered to himself, raising an eyebrow. The loan shark simply nodded, pulling out a small notebook and pencil. It barely fit into his jacket pocket, though he tried to move it as smoothly as possible. “So that will be a thousand a week, for four weeks. Payback in…”

His voice lowered as he scribbled notes down, lost in thought. His rambles were a murmur, and Will was unsure if he was supposed to be following the conversation or not. 

“How much extra?” He asked quickly, before regretting it. That was rude, perhaps now he wouldn’t…

A question was not the response he was expecting, yet he was retaliated with “You are William Graham, correct?” 

“Yes, I thought we already established this?”

“Indeed, although...you are the man who successfully brought down the Garrett Jacob Hobbs group.”

“Th-That’s me,” he answered, a mixture of confused and worried that a loan shark could possess this information. “Although it was a year ago.”

“I have a proposition for you, William.”

Okay, this is definitely The Godfather territory, he thought. Every instinct was screaming at him to refuse, to just take the money and insist on a simple payback solution. However, curiosity won him over.

“What is i-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the loan shark went back to writing on his small pad. He slid a small piece of paper into his hand, scrawled handwriting barely depicting an address.

“Thursday, 11pm. I need you to be there.”

“Why?”

“No additional charge, only the four thousand. A longer amount of time for you to pay back what you owe.”

After finishing his sentence, he slid the pad back into his pocket. While it didn’t work on the first try, he eventually got it to fit. Will pretended not to notice. 

Once again, he extended his hand. “Frederick Chilton. I’ll see you on Tuesday, William.” And with that, he left the room, a slight swagger in his stride, while he somehow also looked like he could fall over at any moment.

“Also, bring a gun.” Chilton called out, a cheeriness in his voice that seemed out of place given the current situation.

Leaning against one of the cupboards, Will ran his hand through his hair, wondering what the hell he had just signed himself up for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thus, chilton becomes a part of the fic.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chilton calls in for a "favour".

He sees Chilton again a few days later.

Honestly, Will didn’t expect to be worried about this as much as he was. One singular favour that would help him with the payback, surely it couldn’t be that difficult or illegal. Yet, the more he pondered over it, the longer his mind continued into several scenarios, all ranging from him being killed in an angry fight, to himself being kidnapped, to himself being killed...as time passed, his mind suggested more imaginative situations that he could possibly arrive to. This was the issue, as he had days to wait until he had to arrive at this mystery location.

It was the gun aspect of this “favour” that Will dreaded the most. He’d only used it before in two scenarios, and in one of them, he had killed a man. It tooks days for his hands to stop shaking afterwards. If he would have to shoot it, even to fire blank, he worried that he would disappoint Chilton, and then the payment plan would suffer…

“For a moment there, I thought you would not arrive,” the loan shark calls out after he pulls up in his car. He glanced at his watch, which read 11:02. A measly two minutes late. _Pushy bastard,_ he thought to himself, though he wouldn’t dare to say it. His hand slides down to his pocket, a small Bureau-issued handgun given to him when he joined the FBI. Though he was only a part time agent, given his line of work, they felt it was appropriate to give him the means to arm himself. At this current time, he was thankful that he had some form of protection.

“Heavy traffic,” he lied, ensuring the safety was still on for his gun. Aside from this being an unfamiliar area of town, he didn’t want to be here; both of this factors affected him in driving slower than usual.

“You’re here know, which is the important thing,” Chilton stepped closer to Will. He wore clothes similar to his appearance upon their first arrival: a leather jacket that was clearly too small, a large white shirt and black trousers. He looked more tired than last time, with traces of worry across his face that made Will even more anxious.

“What am I here for? You never specified-”

Chilton’s mouth moved into something that was a mixture of a smirk and a knowing smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “When we go inside, I need for you to be silent throughout the meeting. Don’t close your eyes or look to the ground. If someone stares at you, stare back at them. You brought the gun, yes?”

“I did,” he answered, pulling out the mentioned gun to show him. Slowly, Chilton took the gun in his hands, looking over it. He flicked the safety off and handed it back to him with a nod.

“It is loaded, I presume. Keep it out of your pockets, but do not fire it at anyone. This should be over soon, especially if you follow my previous instructions.”

Will had no time to consider this or protest before he was following Chilton. He noted that as he walked, the loan shark often swayed to the side, trying to radiate self confidence. To a stranger, it might work, but for the most part he just looked awkward.

Their destination was a restaurant, which confused Will initially. Striding in, Chilton gave a knowing look to the waitress before walking past the tables into a back room which was supervised by a man standing outside. Before Will can look him over, the loan shark is pushing open the door with both hands, giving a satisfying thud as it hits the wall behind it It was a cramped room, dark from poor quality lights and black paint coating the walls. Papers with indistinguishable writing was taped to the walls, along with photographs and posters. The floor was a mess, a few chairs were sprawled across the ground: the room echoed the people inside it.

Four males, just slightly taller than Chilton, stood leaning against the wall. One was smoking, taking long exhales which filled the air with a smoke Will found putrid. They stood in a line, each person looking identical, with buzz haircuts and white t-shirts, which raised the question of if they were related or if it were simply a coincidence.

He lingered a few meters behind, listening intently to their conversation. At one point, he made eye contact with the lackey furthest to the right, who gave him a cold stare in return. He averted his gaze, one hand gripping slightly tighter to the gun.

“Why have I been contacted by the lackeys of Abel Gideon?” He asked. Already, he looked animated as he asked the question, raising his hands for effect. Will presumed it was an act.

An uncomfortable silence followed that lingered for a few seconds, while the people looked to each other as if saying “no, you go first.”

“Gideon has news for you, which he wanted us to pass on.” The person furthest to the left answered, their voice sounding like a monotonous drone. He crossed his arms across his body, his rolled up sleeves displaying various tattoos that Will couldn’t work out what they were depicting.

Chilton snickered, a small sarcastic laugh filling the air. “And if it regarding his current location, locked up in jail, then pass on the message that I hope his bed is comfortable.”

After this message, several of the nameless lackeys looked over to Will, who was already feeling extremely uncomfortable. He wasn’t particularly fond of eye contact, yet with their brown eyes staring into him, he felt out of place. Returning his gaze to the two, he raised an eyebrow, doing his best to listen intently.

What happened next was not something neither Will or Chilton expected: they laughed.

It wasn’t the kind of laughing that he was used to, the happy type that people so often surrounded him, or the nervous laughter he was more familiar with. This kind sounded menacing somehow, from people who knew they had the upper hand.

“Gideon’s free. He wanted you to know that, Frederick. That’s all.”

The facade that the loan shark had been holding onto has slowly fading, Will could tell, despite his resolve to hold onto it. He stayed uncomfortably still, watching the smoking man exhale with a smug grin, aiming the smoke in Chilton’s general direction He took a step closer, his facial expressions twisting into something much darker. “If he tries anything,” his voice lowered. “I will expose him. Already he has been arrested, next time the group can be brought down.”

“And how exactly do you intend to do that?” The smoking man asked, his accent thick. He raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer to Chilton, who looked as if he wanted to take several steps back. Instead, he stood his ground.

“I have behind me the means to do it,” He announced, before turning behind him and looking to Will. The agent stepped forward beside him, raising his gun slightly to the air.

“You remember Garrett Jacob Hobb’s mob, yes? Meet the man who had a large help in bringing them down.”

Recognition met the eyes of the four lackeys. “No fuckin’ way,” whispered the one who had been silent so far. They moved in, adopting a semi circle formation mostly around the loan shark.

“Where d’you pick up a man like this, Frederick?” The previously mute man continued, leaning in close to him. “Because if you try some’thin-”

“If you try something, then I will introduce a third party. The bureau will receive an anonymous tip off containing information regarding Abel Gideon’s associates, their locations, and known victims.” Even for him, this seemed unusually confident, but not in a showy way. Will wondered if he had rehearsed this prior to the meeting.

Taking a few steps backwards, he gave them a fake-smile. He glanced over to will, announcing “Let’s go, William”, before walking out of the room.

\--

“What was that about?” Will asked, after five minutes of uncomfortable quiet. Somehow, he had been persuaded to allow Chilton a ride home. Of course, he insisted on not wearing a seat belt, turning the radio completely off and resting his legs on the dashboard.

He shrugged, looking out of the window. “Unfinished business with a man called Gideon.”

Raising an eyebrow, he looked over to him. “Yeah...I got that…” he murmured, willing for him to elaborate.

In reply, he let out a small huff. “A few years ago, Gideon had killed his wife and her family. Somehow, he had evaded the police, though he needed accommodation, food, security...he needed money. Somehow, he learned of us, so…”

“So your deal went sour?” Will asked, relieved that they had entered the familiar part of town. He could focus more on listening than driving.

“In his current state, he couldn’t return payments. Less and less money was given, he wasn’t meeting deadlines, he was rude at the meetings...so we handed him over.”

“To the police?”

“It was anonymous, though his followers knew who had done it. They’ve tried to contact us with empty threats for months, but out of the four of them, it would be impossible for a take down. Even then, we have associations who we could contact, it would-”

As they reached a red traffic light, he turned to face Chilton, who was currently sprawled across the chair in what looked like the most uncomfortable position ever created. “When you say “we”, do you mean there’s more of you?”

He hesitated, before shrugging, which made him look as though he could fall from this position. “I suppose the term “gang” is slightly childish, but “mob” is rather extreme. It is more a mixture of the two, with different branches and loan sharks…”

“You’re part of a gang?” Will asked incredulously.

“Indeed.”

\--

He said nothing, though his mind was still reeling. His damn overactive imaginations, wondering what was in the past of the man he was currently driving through Baltimore.

“Stop here,” Chilton announced, pulling himself up in his chair. It was an empty street, with run down shops and cafes that illuminated it poorly. Pulling up along the side of the road, he stopped the car.

“How many more favours?” Will asked quietly.

Before talking, he pulled out the pen and paper which still poorly fitted his leather jacket. Sliding it over to Will, he could see a number in small, scawly handwriting.

“I’ll be in touch, William.”

He opened the car, blares of alarms and noises from the street greeting him. Before he could leave, Will stopped him. “So you’re not a simple loan shark.”

“I’m not a simple anything.”

“Anything else I should know?” He asked, already guessing the answer.

Chilton gave him a small smile, leaning through the window. “Nothing that should concern you now, but if it does, I’ll be in touch.”

And with that, he left Will to sit in the car in a slightly familiar area of town. He buried his face into his hands, a small laugh coming out despite of him.

_“I’ve joined a gangster movie,”_ he thought to himself, before shaking his head and driving back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we begin to enter more Will/Chilton territory, I suppose? That's what this fic is going to be building up towards.
> 
> Any feedback/comments is greatly appreciated, as always!


End file.
